


137

by ashes_and_ashes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Azkaban, M/M, Sirius in Azkaban, Trauma, Werewolves, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 02:26:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17499821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes_and_ashes/pseuds/ashes_and_ashes
Summary: Sirius exhales. “I used to keep track of the full moons. In…in Azkaban, I mean. I…remember those tattoos we got? The one I have, on my forearm?” He pulls up his sleeve, showing Remus. “It would glow, every time a full moon was near. And every time there was one, I would cut into my arm and make a mark on the wall.” He looks down. “And I hated myself, Moony. I hated myself for every one of those full moons that you went through with no one there for you. Every time it happened, I would cry, because you were going through so much and I couldn’t do anything.” He looks up, into Remus’ eyes. “Something happened, at one of those moons, Re. Something happened. And I’m so fucking sorry that I wasn’t there.”





	137

He still hadn’t gotten used to the light.

12 years, of darkness, of silence, of nothing but the waves on the rocks and the cold breath of the dementors. 12 years, seeing nothing but his little cell, days passing so, so slowly. 12 years, imprisoned for a crime he never committed.

He had stayed, for the longest time, knowing he deserved it because it was all his fault, wasn’t it? It was all his fault, for passing the responsibility to Peter, for being too cowardly to accept his fate.

13 people. 13 lives that he ended, in battle, with spells and curses.

He was a monster.

Sirius turns in the bed, wrapping the blankets tighter over himself. The first time he had slept in a bed, he felt like he was sinking, the mattress and the blankets and the pillows suffocating him. He had spent so long on the hard stone floor, curled up in a little ball, hoping he wouldn’t freeze to death, and now he was warm and safe and sleeping in Remus’ house.

Remus. In the darkness, Sirius mouths the name. It was surreal, to think that after all this time, after all the torture and pain and agony, they were both still alive, still breathing.

He turns again, the light from the open window illuminating his arm. It had taken him 2 weeks to even be in a darkened room, and even now he couldn’t sleep without a window or a door open. The light falls on his forearm, making the tattoo glow faintly. Sirius glances at it, the moon on his arm shining softly. 2 days until Full Moon.

He frowns. It would be the first one they had together, since that fateful night at Hogwarts.

He remembers the cell, every full moon spent staring at his arm and begging God that Remus would survive. He remembers pleading, to the stars that wheeled above him: Please don’t let me be the last one. Please, take me, but let him survive.

He scoffs. There was no God. He had abandoned them.

Sirius stands, rising from the bed, hot and restless. It was hard, so damn hard being in the same apartment as Remus. It was awkward, the 12 years stretching between them, with nothing but the memories of what they once were. They had tried, that first day, tried to rekindle what they used to feel, but Sirius was too broken, Remus too shattered.

Re was so distant, more so in the past few weeks. Drifting, a ghost in his own skin. They avoided each other, unspooling like thread, days without talking or looking at each other. He was half-present, half alive, an empty shell.

It was hard, on them both. They were once something and now all Sirius could do was stare at the shards of what they once were.

With a curse, Sirius throws the door open. He walks down, into the living room, where he finds Remus on the couch.

He’s crossed-legged, one hand balled into a tight fist, staring blankly at the wall ahead. The fire was low, casting shadows on his face, making the scars look fresh and angry. Sirius walks, making as much noise as possible, trying not to startle Remus. “Been there all night? It’s 3 am.”

Remus gives a small shrug. “You should be sleeping.” Internally, Sirius winces, at the flatness of his voice. He swallows. “So should you.”

Remus doesn’t even look at him. “Can’t. Too close to full.”

Sirius nods. “You’re good for that, yeah? Do you need me to help with anything?”

“No.” Remus shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

Sirius bites his lip. There was something underneath the flat mask, something echoing and haunted and painful. He takes a deep breath, coming around the couch to look into Remus’ eyes. “Hey. Re. What’s wrong?”

Remus shakes his head. “Nothing. Everything’s great.”

“Rubbish.” Sirius takes Remus’ hands, covering his clenched fists with his own. They sit there for awhile, the only sound their mingled breathing, the crackle of the fire behind them. Sirius exhales. “I used to keep track of the full moons. In…in Azkaban, I mean. I…remember those tattoos we got? The one I have, on my forearm?” He pulls up his sleeve, showing Remus. “It would glow, every time a full moon was near. And every time there was one, I would cut into my arm and make a mark on the wall.” He looks down. “And I hated myself, Moony. I hated myself for every one of those full moons that you went through with no one there for you. Everytime it happened, I would cry, because you were going through so much and I couldn’t do anything.” He looks up, into Remus’ eyes. “Something happened, at one of those moons, Re. Something happened. And I’m so fucking sorry that I wasn’t there.”

Remus’ voice is hoarse. “How many. How many moons?”

Sirius closes his eyes. “137.”

Remus takes a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling, and Sirius wraps his arms around him. Remus sighs, leaning his head against Sirius, and Sirius breathes. “You once told me something, a long time ago. ‘I’ve always got your back,’ you said, ‘because I will always love you.’” Sirius strokes Remus’ hair. “I’ve got your back now, Re. Always.”

Remus’ hands tighten, his knuckles going white, as he whispers. “It was 9 years after they died. You were in Azkaban. I thought…” He takes an unsteady breath. “I… James was dead, and I thought Peter was too, and God, I hated you Pads, and I just…I thought I was the last one.” There’s bitterness in his voice, self loathing and hatred, as Remus shakes his head. “And I was just..” He sighs, letting his head fall against Sirius. “I was done. I was just so, so tired and I… I didn’t care anymore, Sirius. I‘m a werewolf - there was nothing I could do. I cleaned houses and worked the streets and… I don’t know. I didn’t give a damn if I died or not.”

Sirius grabs Remus’ arm. “Re - “

“Don’t.” Remus shakes his head. “I can’t get through this, otherwise.” He laughs, bitter and dark. “Anyways, I was slowly dying, and the full moon was coming and I just… left. I grabbed all my food and apparated into the middle of nowhere and… That moon was rough. And I thought I was alone, Pads, I didn’t realize…”

There’s a lump in Sirius’ throat, as Remus whispers, “I didn’t know there was a muggle campsite, a few miles down.”

Sirius closes his eyes, against the look on Remus’ face. It’s haunted, anguished, desperate and forlorn. “How many? How many did you hurt?”

Remus bites his lips. “3. A woman and two men.” He looks down, tears in his eyes. “I woke up, and I was naked and just crouching in a pool of blood and they were bleeding next to me and…” He exhales. “They think it was a wild animal. The muggles, I mean. But I’ll always know and…” Remus clenches his jaw. “How? How do you keep on living? I still see them, in my dreams. Why am I such a monster?”

Sirius swears, gripping Remus’ face in his hands. “Don’t say that. Ever. It’s not your fault.”

Remus shakes his head. “It’s always my fault.”

Sirius bites his lip, the pain clearing his head. “There was something Regulus told me, long ago. We were on the battlefield, wands pointing at each other, and he said, ‘Never forget the number of lives you’ve taken. Because once you do, your soul is lost.’” He stares into Remus’ eyes. “You are not a monster. This was not you fault.”

Remus stares back at him, and for a moment, Sirius can’t breathe. It’s been so long, so long since someone has looked at him like this, and it’s agony. “Re…I…”

He’s cut off by Remus, pulling him into a hard kiss, his first since Azkaban, and it’s desperate abc longing and painful. A kiss for all the time they spent apart, for all the agony and the torture. A kiss to wash away the darkness, the memories, and Sirius is smiling underneath Remus’ lips as he pulls Remus down on top of him and kisses him harder.


End file.
